


To Find the Words to Say

by thingsishouldntbedoing - discontinued (arminoni)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Disability, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminoni/pseuds/thingsishouldntbedoing%20-%20discontinued
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's a troublemaker that's hopped from school to school. His parents, at their wit's end, desperately send him to a fine arts school in the hope he'd learn to outlet himself in other ways. There he meets the mysterious Armin: a boy who doesn't speak but has so much to say. As Jean struggles to understand he learns of Armin's dark secret and falls madly in love with him. But at what cost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A handful of moments.

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO! I thought I'd write a happier jearmin for you guys (marginally)! This one's going to be super cute and fluffy and sweet but there's going to be some other stuff that happens too!  
>  **PLEASE READ THIS**
> 
>  
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER** : ASL is a very complicated and beautiful language that involves the entire body and intricate nonverbal communication; as such it is difficult to translate just how it looks on paper. The grammar, words, and meanings are all different in ASL and the language does not always allow for direct translation into written English at times. _For the purposes of this story I will be using **WRITTEN ENGLISH** as if it were being signed to make it flow more easily into the conversations. In order to make this easier to understand I will **bold** to identify when something is written or signed so that they are easily discernible within the text!_
> 
>  
> 
> tumblr: thingsishouldntbedoing
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>  
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> tracking: fic: find the words

He sighed heavily, angrily, as he threw himself into the SUV waiting outside his house. 

“Don’t act like that, Jean, this will be good for you,” his mother told him and the boy sighed again, “Jean please don’t be this way…” 

“I don’t know why /this/ is your answer,” Jean muttered. 

“I’m at my wit’s end with you, you’ve been expelled from three schools I just want you to finish your education,” Jean’s heart broke hearing her so desperate but he huffed and looked out the window anyway. The bruising on his cheek was still yellowed, the cut beneath his eye from a class ring pinched with a butterfly stitch, he knew it looked bad but he didn’t care much. _Moving me to another school isn’t going to help._

It was a fine arts high school in the heart of Kansas City, private with expensive tuition Jean wasn’t even sure how his parents had managed to pay for, but it seemed to be their last hope: to shove him somewhere that there weren’t football players for him to tousle with. 

“Here we are…” Jean looked up at the Spanish style building and grumbled something non-committally about ‘hate this place’. She led him in and spoke softly to the receptionist as curious students passed by. 

As they were being led to the counseling center Jean caught sight of a boy walking among the students with long blonde hair and an angled jaw, he was willowy and graceful as he moved but all Jean could see was the color of his eyes when he glanced his way. Jean felt his heart stop until he’d passed by and turned down the hallway. _Who was that?_ He blinked, those crystalline blue eyes had burned him to the core. 

The visit with the counselor took longer than Jean would have liked, stretching his long legs out in front of him and shoving his hands into his pockets. “You have a chance to complete either a second language series or take upper level science and math courses,” Jean heard him say. 

“Huh?” He looked at the proffered paper and looked over the words. “What the hell is this?” 

“Oh! It’s a relatively new program introduced about four years ago, an ASL program minor, it’s a good talent to have in theatre and the arts!” The counselor responded. 

“Fine I’ll do that,” he dismissed. _It’d be better than anything else, at least I don’t actually have to do anything._

How wrong he was. 

\--- 

“Hey you’re the new kid right?” Jean heard a voice as he sat down at one of the circular lunch tables, glancing up with a sigh at the boy with the untended mohawk. 

“What’s it to you?” Jean asked and spread out a little, rolling his shoulders. _Don’t just invite yourself to sit down._

“My name’s Connie Springer and I just saw you come into Trig today and thought I’d say hi,” he grinned as he sat down. 

_Great._ He looked away from him as he spoke, eyes searching out the slender boy from earlier. He was sitting at a table with a pleasant looking brown haired girl who was sweating over a text book beside him. He twiddled with a strand of his blonde hair and made some weird movement with his hand. To Jean it seemed as though she stared at him blankly before nodding, scribbling furiously on her paper before the boy smiled and caught her pencil, starting to write something down for her. 

“Who is that?” He asked and Connie laughed. 

“His name is Armin, kind of a quiet kid but he seems nice. I’ve never spoken to him myself but Sasha’s kind of a friend of his.” 

“Sasha?” 

“My girlfriend, she’s the one sitting with him right now,” Connie gestured. 

“Oh… is that okay?” Jean wondered. “You’re not jealous?” “Nah, he doesn’t like her that way.” 

_This place is fucking weird._

\--- 

“Where’s your next class?” His new companion asked as they left the lunch room. 

“Uh… Room 133.” 

“Oh that’s in the bunker, come on I’ll show you,” Connie grinned. 

“Why the hell are you talking to me, man?” 

“Huh? You just looked so lonely…” _I looked lonely?_ His golden eyes flickered. 

“I’m not really lonely, I’m fine on my own.” 

“But it was your first day at a new school! I wasn’t about to just let you think we didn’t want you here!” His smiled made Jean grit his teeth but he followed him anyway. He supposed it wasn’t so bad to be talked to like this… to have someone to talk to in return. It had been a long time since he’d been able to do that. 

“Well… sure…” He followed him down a flight of steps into the fluorescent lights of the hallway known as ‘The Bunker’, he understood why that was its nickname when he found that there were no windows in any of the classrooms. 

“This is it! 133!” Connie stopped. “Hey let me know if I can do anything else for you okay?” 

“Sure…” Jean hesitated to thank him, considering it for a moment before turning and walking into the classroom. 

“What a weird guy…” Connie hummed, jumping when a hand caught his elbow. “Sasha!” He smiled as she stalled next to him to touch their lips together. “I met the new kid, hey Armin!” 

The tall blonde smiled at him in return, eyes widening as he caught some of Sasha’s books and papers that were slipping out of her unzipped backpack. 

**“Be more careful,”** he signed and Sasha laughed. 

“Oh damn I forgot to zip that thanks,” she adjusted as he zipped her bag. “I’ll see you inside!” She told him as he walked into the classroom. “So the new kid, what’s he like?” Armin hesitated in the doorway. 

“Kind of quiet but he doesn’t seem particularly mean…” he looked up as the warning bell rang. “Ugh geez I’ll see you later,” he kissed her tenderly and ran off for his class. 

_I wonder what that means?_ Armin thought as he walked into the classroom. The new boy was slouched in the back with what Armin perceived as mile long legs stretched out in front of him, one of his arms was crossed over his ribcage with his elbow resting on it as he leaned against his fist boredly. His hair was undercut and long with strands dangling into his eyes almost blonde on top with a dark contrast between; a pretty choice Armin thought as his golden eyes flickered up. 

_His eyes are so sad._ He noted the fading bruises around the curve of his eye socket, the butterfly bandage on his cheekbone, the scars on the knuckles of his hand… all things that made Armin’s heart ache with curiosity. What had happened to him? 

The teacher called for attention and Armin hastily sat down in a seat just diagonal to Jean, glancing over his shoulder at him curiously. _What’s his name?_

“Would you like to come introduce yourself, Mr. Kirchstein?” The professor asked and Jean sighed. 

“Ugh sure… I’m Jean Kirchstein… I just transferred here from Liberty…” He grumbled. 

“Really? That’s a good drive,” the teacher seemed interested but Jean looked away and leaned over his desk, burying his face in his arms. 

“Well anyway we’re going to be working on sentence structure today--” Jean had already tuned her out when something prodded him in the arm. 

“Hm?” He lifted his head and the folded piece of paper poked him in the nose. “Ouch what?” He scowled and looked up at the perpetrator. Armin looked a little concerned but dropped the paper into the nest of his arms, turning back around to look at the teacher. “What the hell is this?” He unfolded the notebook paper and found tidy handwriting saying: 

**You should pay attention.**

Jean rolled his eyes and tossed it back to him, “I don’t care.” 

**You should care.**

Jean scowled when the next note was slid between his fingers, “I don’t understand this shit.” 

**Then let me help you. She’s talking about basic formations right now. You only missed a couple days.**

Armin offered a smile in addition to his note and glanced at the teacher. Jean found him mysterious, that silly little smile that flickered over his lips, the way his cerulean eyes glittered with each playful note. 

“Fine,” Jean muttered and Armin shuttled himself into the seat next to him. _He’s fucking pleased with himself,_ Jean thought as he watched him twirl his pen between his fingers. _It’s kind of cute,_ he flushed and looked away. 

He spent the rest of the day thinking about the boy in his language class. Armin had passed him notes silently through all of class; showing him how to hold his fingers and hands, adjusting his elbows with the most gentle touch. He wondered how he knew how to sign so well but as soon as class was over Armin had waved to him and hurried out the door to his next room. It was the first time in a long time that someone hadn’t be afraid of him. Someone had ignored all of his barriers to keep people out entirely. Even with Connie he’d held those barriers high but this kid… 

“Hey!” Jean spotted him walking down the front steps. He would know him in a crowd as if he were the only one standing still, as if he held some power to draw the eye. “Hey I didn’t get to tell you thanks,” Jean rubbed his undercut as he stopped next to the blonde. 

_Oh my god what do I do?_ Armin opened his mouth, a strange sort of breath escaping his throat. _What do I do?_

“H-Hey are you okay?” Jean looked startled. “Are you choking?” He reached out to him and Armin caught his fingers, shaking his head. “What’s… what’s wrong?” _Did I do something wrong?_

Armin was slipping something out of his pocket, a little notepad that was almost used up, biting the cap off a pen as he scribbled something down. 

_What’s going on?_ Jean’s heart ached. _Does he not like me?_

**I don’t speak.**

Jean stared at the note blankly, hastily scribbled onto a blank sheet of paper. It stood out black and dark like the despair that had only moments before filled his heart. 

Armin looked concerned and wrote something else. 

**I’m a mute.**

He thought maybe that Jean had misunderstood, that he’d offended him in some way, or maybe that he thought he just wasn’t going to talk to him. _I should just go._ He flushed scarlet and turned away, running down to his grandfather’s car. 

Jean watched him go, more confused than before. _He doesn’t speak._ He couldn’t decide how to feel, or if it even mattered how he felt. He was rooted to that spot, the moment when he knew he’d have to change everything. 

\--- 

Armin came into his ASL class the next day to find a small leather bound notebook on his desk. It was thick, small enough to fit in his hand; the covers felt absolutely scintillating beneath the pads of his fingers. He opened it and found the gold trimmed pages were fine and soft under his caresses. _What is this?_ He knitted his brows as he picked up the silver embellished pen, enjoying the weight in his fingers. _Who did this?_ His heart pounded in his chest; these were such beautiful gifts. He looked up and found Jean watching him, something new in his eyes, and when he flipped open the cover to read what was written on the first page he cupped his hand over his mouth as his eyes burned. 

**I’m sorry. Let’s start again.**


	2. It feels like a perfect night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean discusses his new friend. Armin is a sly fox that's met his match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Since there were so many hits on this fic with only one chapter I thought I'd upload the second one since it was just waiting in the wings. This story is a fun and easy one to write, though there is some plot information coming up in the next few chapters... not just yet though! Enjoy for now!
> 
> tumblr: thingsishouldntbedoing
> 
> tracking: fic: find the words

When he’d told his parents he was gay he’d expected a far worse reaction than the one he’d received. 

His mother cried and said she was worried that was the reason why he’d been acting out. That maybe they hadn’t understood him and that was why he got into fights, to get back at them for not knowing or realizing. She worried that perhaps they had said something that had made him hate himself. 

His father had merely hummed, looking him over. He said he’d known, but hadn’t wanted to say anything until Jean was ready. He did ask if the kids he fought with knew, if that was the reason why he was always in trouble. 

It wasn’t a particularly bad reaction, they accepted it, he supposed that telling them after his fifth fight of the semester wasn’t a good idea after all… but that wasn’t what was important. 

What was important was the awkward moment at the dinner table where he talked about Armin for the first time. 

“So this is… a boy you like?” His mother’s voice sounded stunned and for a moment Jean felt a pang of fear. _Are they okay with it as long as I’m not seeing anyone?_

“Yeah, so?” 

“It’s just that… you’ve never really shown interest in anyone Jean?” She cast a look at her husband who looked just as surprised. 

“He’s different,” he leaned forward and twirled his spaghetti around his fork. When he glanced up he saw the soft smile on his parents’ faces and grew suspicious, “What?” 

“We’re just… that’s wonderful!” His mother gushed a little lightly. “I thought this school might be a turning point for you!” 

“Wh-What? Ma I just… he’s kind of nice okay?” He grumbled but his cheeks tinged pink. 

“Is this the same friend you bought that pen for?” His father asked and Jean nodded, “Does he like you back?” 

“Dad! I haven’t even… _no_. I don’t know,” he stared his garlic bread down before shoving it in his mouth. He was pleased that his parents were happy. Pleased that they were asking about his life. 

“Well it’s just good to know you’re making friends,” his mother sounded relieved and he thought for a moment her voice might break. _This makes them happy?_

All this was a drastic change from how they’d acted before. Dinners were always quiet and short between them, usually with some hard and angry words about his grades or the bruises on his face. 

In a week everything had changed. 

He hadn’t been in a single fight since he’d started going to his new school, and was in fact set to study with Armin that night. _Study_. That wasn’t a word his parents had ever heard him use, “So it’s… okay then?” 

“Yes!” His mother said happily, fingers curling into her husband’s hand, “Yes it’s fine, Jean.” 

He had never felt this way before, heard such pride in her voice or seen happiness on her face so bright it was almost blinding. _So this is what it feels like when you don’t disappoint them all the time._

He was grinning by the time he pulled up at the address on his phone, glancing up at the brick house just once more to make sure that he was in the right place. _This is it… it’s really nice._ He was in a nicer part of downtown with its tree lined streets and quiet, quaint porches. He wondered what Armin’s grandfather did for a living. 

“Huh? What are you doing out here?” Jean asked through his scarf when he saw Armin sitting on the porch swing, laughing when he began to sign to him happily. “Hey! I’m not that good yet,” he sat down on the swing and let Armin throw his blanket over his lap. “Go slow okay?” 

**“I was watching the sunset,”** Armin replied with careful and deliberate hands. 

“Kind of romantic to do alone don’t you think?” 

**“I don’t understand why you can’t just try signing.”**

“I didn’t… why don’t I?” He flushed a little lightly, “Uh… well I mean I don’t know it very well.” 

**“You’re cute when you blush,”** Armin told him and Jean looked at him blankly. 

“What does that mean?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about Armin’s sly smile, “Aren’t you cold?” 

**“Do you want to go inside?”** Now that was something he understood and he stood up when Armin bundled the blanket up in his arms. 

Jean felt nervous suddenly: this would be his first time meeting Armin’s family. Even if it was just his grandfather… _Is he mute too?_ Jean wondered. He had never bothered to ask what had made Armin mute, in fact come to think of it he’d never really asked him about much. They were always too busy passing jokes in class. 

_Shit maybe I should have studied better?_

“Hello! You must be Jean, Armin’s told me so much about you,” he was met with a warm smile from a kind looking man. 

“H-Hello Mr. Arlert,” Jean cleared his throat and heard Armin huff a laugh behind him. It wasn’t much of a laugh, more of a swift expulsion of air through his trachea, but Jean had learned what it meant. 

“No need to be so nervous,” the old man consoled, “Have you eaten? Can I get you boys anything?” 

**“We’re just going to go upstairs and study, is that alright?” Armin asked.**

“Of course, let me know if you need something,” he smiled and Armin nodded before catching Jean’s hand in his and leading him up the stairs. 

“Your grandpa seems nice,” Jean murmured in the quiet of the hallway. 

Armin was always at a loss when Jean was speaking to him, his voice was deep but young in the best way, rumbling around in his chest like rocks in a barrel. He wished he could lay his ear flat and listen to him speak all night, feel the texture of his words beneath the warmth of his skin, hear the deafening silence in the moments between them. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Jean asked curiously when he noticed the faraway look in Armin’s eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going blind too!” He earned a jab to his ribcage and a smile. 

_I wonder what my voice would sound like?_ The thought flickered on his face before he opened the door. **“It’s messy sorry,”** Armin signed but Jean wasn’t paying attention. 

“It’s so… you?” He tried to explain it. There were glow in the dark stars on the ceilings laid out in constellations, he was fairly sure, and the big bay window that protruded above the porch roof was obviously in this room. There was a cushioned seat that Jean could just imagine Armin spending his days reading on, a book laying on the plush fabric that Jean ran his fingers over. “You’re reading _The Hobbit_?” He looked over and found Armin standing still in the doorway. “Is there… are you okay?” 

**It’s been a long time since anyone was in my room.** Armin offered the notebook and Jean smiled fondly. **I’m just not used to it yet.**

“Oh is it okay?” Jean asked and glanced around again. There were a few video game posters on his walls, a copy of some painting he was sure he recognised from somewhere he was sure… 

**Sunflowers by Van Gogh.** Armin offered helpfully when he noticed Jean was staring down his painting with the intent to set it on fire. 

“I didn’t… want to seem stupid.” 

**You’re so worried about that.** The look of concern in his eyes made Jean’s cheeks flush. _Geez this kid is cute sometimes._

“Eh… I’m not very smart,” Jean walked over to where Armin’s duvet was sliding off the bed. It was grey and white striped and he was pretty sure he’d seen it at Urban Outfitters one day when he was applying for a job. 

Armin watched him poke around his room, then looked down at the wood floors to trace out the grooves and knots in the oak. _He thinks so poorly of himself._

“Have I done something again?” Jean asked, “Uh where should I sit?” 

**“Anywhere is fine,”** Armin smiled and soon they were both sprawled out on the floor with Armin slowly teaching Jean signs. The taller boy was laid out on his back looking up at Armin sitting with his legs folded beneath their textbook. Somewhere along the way they’d gotten off the lesson and Jean had started asking about other things. 

“How do I say ‘I’ll cook dinner’?” Jean asked and Armin obliged, showing him each sign carefully. His long blonde hair had been taken down from its half pony and Jean couldn’t help but reach up and catch the end of a strand between his fingers. 

“Or what about ‘You pick the movie’?” Armin’s cheeks were starting to ache from smiling at his silly questions. Jean smiled at him in return, those golden eyes glinting with playfulness as Armin signed. Armin wondered how many glances into them he could get away with. 

“I’ve got it! Wh-What about ‘Will you go on a date with me’?” Jean asked and Armin’s face sank just a little. _Is he asking for the words?_ So he signed them out as Jean sat up next to him. 

“Or… ‘Do you like me’?” His fingers faltered as he found himself tracing the peaks and boroughs of Jean’s irises. From deep brown around the edges to catlike yellow against the dark of his pupils they melted together like liquid bullion. He could learn those eyes forever. 

“Can I kiss you?” His heart skipped a beat as he tried to sign the words, failing to keep his eyes from flickering to his mouth. 

Armin’s breath caught in his throat when he realized how near they were, how he could feel the warmth of Jean’s breath against his lips and the heat of his arm near his knee. At this moment, now more than ever, he wished he could give him a better answer than the one he had. 

**“Can I kiss you?”** Jean signed with unpracticed hands and Armin caught his face in his fingers, shaking his head no. _I’ve made a mistake,_ he thought the second before their lips met, _or maybe not._

It was a sweet kiss, soft and unsure as Jean caught his hand against the smooth curve of his neck and let his thumb brush his jaw. This was something Armin was unpracticed at, unsure but curious as Jean nibbled his bottom lip gently, letting his slender fingers slide into Jean’s undercut. _This is wonderful._ He leaned in a little and Jean chuckled into his mouth but Armin could feel it against the palm of his hand when he pressed it against Jean’s chest. _If he would talk to me forever I’d be happy._ Jean licked his lips and he parted them curiously, letting his tongue into his mouth as his shaking hand caught into the thatch of hair on his head. 

_Or he could just kiss me forever._ His heart clenched. 

“Damn,” Jean broke away as his phone started to ring and Armin pulled his hands back. He felt giddy, absolutely delighted as he watched Jean lick his shining lips, knowing where they’d been just moments before, “Yeah Ma sorry I’ll be there soon, yeah we got a lot done.” He glanced up at Armin with a shy smile and Armin’s heart skipped a beat again. 

Jean’s smile didn’t fade even as Armin followed him out of the house to say goodbye, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, “Well I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” 

**“Yes maybe at lunch?”** Armin signed. Jean searched his eyes, heart fluttering in his chest. This was the beginning of something… even if he wasn’t sure what. 

“Yeah,” Armin gasped when his calloused hand caught the side of his face and their lips met once more in a chaste, lingering kiss goodnight. 

**“Goodnight,”** Armin told him as he walked back to his car. _Oh my god, wait!_ He waved his hand and Jean stopped. **“Will you go on a date with me?”** He signed with shivering hands and Jean looked confused again. _Please._

“Goodnight!” Jean said after a moment of brow furrowing confusion. _What the hell did that mean?_

\--- 

When Jean set his tray down on the table the next day at lunch Armin glanced up at him, then away bashfully. 

“What’s going on?” Sasha asked curiously. 

“Hey,” Jean called his attention and Armin could barely look back at him. 

**“I’m so sorry I asked you… that…”** Armin hesitated between words and Jean caught his hands. 

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot,” he smiled in return. The whole drive home he’d muddled through the signs, desperate to understand. This morning it had come to him like a strike of lightening, “Yes. The answer is yes.” 

Armin threw his arms around his neck, grinning broadly, hands shaking too badly to sign. _Thank you. Thank you so much._ He wasn’t sure who he was praying to but the way Jean’s arms wrapped around his waist was worth the invocation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "22" by Taylor Swift.


	3. Words you wanted to say but locked them away.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Armin's first date goes a little unusually. Armin finally makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a while since I updated this fic and I apologize for that! It's about to go up on my update schedule so you'll have some idea of when it'll update! Plus I was on hiatus for a while. Here's the next chapter I hope you enjoy it, I really did enjoy writing it for you.
> 
> tumblr: thingsishouldntbedoing
> 
> tracking: fic: words to say

"Armin! You've only got an hour left!" He heard his grandfather call through the bathroom door and he knocked on the tub in reply, "If you say so. I think you should stop using up all the hot water, boy." He heard his grandfather chuckle and he smiled, sinking his head under the water. 

He was going on a date. He grinned up through the glistening surface of the water, heartbeat thumping in his ears like the low bass of a passing car. _This is the happiest I've been._ He sat up and let water run down his shoulders in thick rivulets. Even though his stomach churned with butterflies as he rinsed his hair with the spray handle he giggled to himself. 

He was going on a date with _Jean._ The goofy dork that desperately wanted to be tough, wanted to seem above it all. He had seemed so much more angry than Armin saw him now; his smiles came easily with Armin around. _I hope that’s just the beginning._ He smiled fondly as he climbed out and dried off, tying his towel around his waist. 

A Skype call was ringing on his computer when he walked into his room and he answered it curiously, “So what’s this about a date?” 

Armin grinned as his best friend’s voice came over the speakers, there was no need for formalities. **“He’s coming to get me in 45 minutes!”** Armin signed. 

“Is he really? This is the one from your class, right? The one you keep talking about?” The brown haired boy in the video was smiling softly, face illuminated by his computer screen. 

**“Yes,”** Armin walked away from the computer and dropped his towel to pull his clothes on. 

“How am I supposed to know if you’re talking to me? Geez you’re inconsiderate,” Eren teased and Armin’s hand appeared on the screen to flip him off rather than using an ASL curse. **“Too lazy?”** He gestured when Armin returned in his jeans. “Have you lost weight?” 

**“I’ve been working out! Jogging and crunches and stuff,”** Armin replied happily. 

“I think you’re just turning into Slenderman,” Armin made a face at him before pulling on a t-shirt. “Is _that_ what you’re wearing?” 

**“Fuck you,”** Armin signed at him by fingerspelling ‘F’ and ‘K’, one of the aforementioned loansigns. 

**“Here I thought you’d lost your touch,”** Eren replied. “I’m getting a little rusty lately, we’ve just been typing so much.” 

**“It’s probably easier for us,”** Armin looked down at the soft fabric of his henley and then looked at himself in the mirror. His blonde hair was damp around his shoulders, framing his angular face, blue eyes bright against the grey of his shirt. **“Do you think it looks stupid?”**

“Nah I like it I was just teasing you, it’s cold there right? Bundle up!” Eren told him, “And I’m happy to video chat with you… I miss talking to you and seeing you smile.” 

Armin flushed happily, **“What about a sweater? Sweatshirt?”**

“Wear a jacket, I know you have a blazer in that meticulous wardrobe of yours.” 

Armin pulled out a canvas jacket in dark blue and offered it to the camera. **“This?”**

“That’ll work! Goes with those pretty eyes of yours.” 

**“You’re just being nice.”** He grinned. 

Outside Jean stepped out of his car and pawed at the ground nervously, his mother had sat patiently on his bed while they discussed what he should wear for almost an hour. She seemed interested in helping, and probably making sure he didn’t look like a hoodlum on his first date, but in the end he’d worn a pair of jeans with brown leather boots his mother had sworn on as an appropriate choice of attire with the button down she’d practically forced on him with threat of physical harm. 

_I think I look a little too dressy._ He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie as he cleared his throat and forced himself to walk up the stairs. He was disgustingly nervous, in fact he’d tried to eat something at lunch and it had left such a bad taste in his mouth he couldn’t finish it. 

_Butterflies._ His mother had called it. _Demonic possession._ He preferred. 

“You’re here early,” Armin’s grandfather opened the door as soon as he was on the porch. “Come on in.” 

“Thank you Mr. Arlert,” Jean said softly. “Is he…” 

“He’s upstairs talking to Eren. And please call me Herman,” Jean’s lips parted. He’d heard about Eren, the best friend who’d moved away to another state a few years ago. _They still talk? I wonder if they’re talking about me…_ he grinned at the thought. “O-Oh of course, sir!” “Have fun, okay? Don’t be a fool wrap your tool,” Eren grinned and Armin flushed scarlet. 

**“Don’t say things like that!”** He gesticulated wildly. **“He’s here I have to go,”** Armin’s heart skipped a beat as he heard his grandfather speak. _Oh my god he’s here._ He swallowed hard, nodding at Eren’s thumb’s up before he closed his laptop. 

Jean looked up the stairs when he heard the door shut, butterflies billowing into his chest and beating against his lungs until he was breathless with nerves. “Wow…” he murmured as his date stopped at the top of the steps, taken by the moment. He almost couldn’t believe this was his life, that the shy boy at the top of the stairs had paused to tuck a stray strand of golden hair behind his ear, that his heartbeat was so loud it drowned out every thought but one: “Hey.” _Smooth._ Armin’s face broke from queasy uncertainty to a bright smile, shoulders trembling as he laughed, walking down the stairs to him. He accepted Jean’s outstretched hand and looked up at him adoringly, heart fluttering in his chest. _He’s here and we’re going to go on a date together!_ He wondered if he should kiss him in greeting, frozen in that awkward space between kissing or not kissing. _How do I greet him?_

Jean coughed in response to the silence, smiling sheepishly, “Can I…” He leaned down slightly, lips curving against Armin’s as the blonde kissed him eagerly. _I want to say so many things but I can’t…_ Clear blue eyes searched his, eager for words, desperate for more. “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” they spread wide in silent surprise before crinkling at the corners in a smile. 

**“Thank you, you look so nice,”** a flush rose in Armin’s cheeks as he cast his gaze downwards. _He must really think that._ He was happy to know someone like Jean; he wasn’t even sure if it was bravery or stupidity that drove him to be so honest but it was refreshing. 

“Are you… are you ready to go?” Jean asked nervously. 

“It’s gonna snow tonight, boys, so be careful,” Herman warned from the recliner. 

“Oh, okay yeah I’ll make sure to turn back if it gets too nasty,” Jean watched Armin ravel a scarf around his neck. 

**“Okay let’s go,”** Armin signed. _We’re really going to do this._ His heartbeat thundered in his ears as they walked out to the car. **“Is this your parents’ car?”** He asked when he saw the ‘98 Saab sitting by the curb. 

“Nah I bought it off a guy a year ago,” he answered as he opened the door. 

**“It’s a nice car,”** Armin was surprised by how well taken care of the car was. Its paint had obviously been retouched, buffed into reflective territory, the leather seats inside were worn but in good condition without cracks or tears. 

“Yeah it’s been a good car for me. It’s only got 67,000 miles on it if you’d believe it; belonged to his mother I guess so she never drove it,” the engine purred to life; sending a blast of warm air from the cooling engine over their faces. 

He was getting close to thinking that listening to Jean talk was his favorite pastime; faltering between confidence and nerves at Armin’s silence. He asked every once in a while if he was annoying him, if he talked too much, but Armin’s answer was always no. _Always_ no. _Always_ talk because at least one of them could fill the silence between them. 

He’d never needed or wanted to talk to someone this desperately before, not like Jean, he wanted to tell him everything. Vomit words at him until he was tired of hearing his voice, talk until Jean had to kiss him to stem the flow, yell and laugh and sob against the beating of his heart. 

Tell him everything. 

_Not yet._ He couldn’t let that sneak in now. He couldn’t bring up such a topic at this moment. _Don’t think about it right now we can’t talk about it now._ He glanced down at his fingers, rubbing the soft skin at the base of his thumb nervously. 

“Is everything alright?” Jean’s hand caught Armin’s and the blonde felt his heart jump into his throat, lacing their fingers together bravely. 

**“Yes,”** he signed with a weak smile. _Everything is okay. I’m here with you and that’s the only place I want to be right now._

Dinner and a movie had been the agreed upon date, conventional teenagers as they were, but the snow was falling thick around them when he pull off the highway; nerves built in his stomach again… what if something went wrong? What if they got in there and found they had nothing to talk about? What if he forgot how to sign or… what ifs chased each other around in his head until a gentle hand brought him out of his reverie. 

**“I think maybe we should go home?”** Armin signed now that he had his attention. **“The storm is getting pretty bad.”** He looked out the window, a striking silhouette against the whiteout beyond the glass. 

“I can get us back,” Jean assured more to himself than anything. “Jesus what the hell do we do now? What do we eat?” 

**“There’s food at the house,”** Armin offered, almost glad they weren’t going to be sitting in public. 

“Alright…” Jean fell quiet as they started moving again. “Is this okay with you? I mean… not doing this? We could still make the movie later if they clear the streets.” 

**“Jean,”** he signed his name and curled his fingers into his. _I want to tell you it’s okay…_

The drive home was a harrowing experience, Jean was breathless with laughter when they finally slid into park in front of Armin’s house, “Here we are! Oh my god are you okay?” 

Armin’s white knuckled grip on the door and stiff face half torn between fear and excitement had him laughing even harder as the boy finally relaxed, letting out a noiseless giggle, **“That was terrifying.”**

Jean laughed as they trudged into the house, greeted a smiling Herman, and kicked off their boots, “You might let your parents know you’re staying here tonight.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

**“Good boy, do you boys want me to cook something?”** He offered and Armin shook his head. 

**“We’ll make something Grandpa but thank you!”** He was smiling brightly despite their odd predicament, peeling off his nice clothes. 

“Hang on I think I’ve got a change of clothes in my car.” 

Before long they were in sweatpants and t-shirts making frozen pizza in the kitchen. Armin had produced cookie dough from somewhere, perched on the counter with the bowl on his lap as he divied out scoops of cookie dough to a tray. Jean caught tendrils of his blonde hair in his fingers, drawing his attention, “Hey.” 

Armin searched his face, heart pounding, he could see the pink beginnings of a scar on his cheek from where he’d been cut before; the smooth transition of gold in his irises as they flickered over his face shimmer from yellow to bullion in a half of a second. He wondered if Jean’s hair ever got in his way, long and dangling over his eyes, if he ever hid behind it so others wouldn’t know what he was thinking. _You’re the one that’s beautiful, Jean._ He touched his face, running his thumb over the line of his cheekbone, letting his lashes graze the tip of his finger. _We don’t have to talk._ Jean leaned into his touch, chest tight. _He doesn’t have to say a word to make me feel like this._ His hand caught his knee gently, suspended in his eyes. The oven’s timer broke the air and Armin giggled silently at Jean’s impatient sigh. 

**“If you spent less time staring into my eyes and more time kissing me we wouldn’t have this problem,”** he signed despite knowing Jean wouldn’t understand. 

“I only got half of that but I’m going to assume it has something to do with kissing,” Jean pulled the pizza out and set it on the cooling rack. “Put those in, would y--” Armin caught his face in his hands and kissed him firmly. 

_What if we burn out?_ Jean wondered, heart jolting when Armin nibbled his bottom lip and took control of the kiss. _I guess I can't worry about that._ He smiled. 

"So now what?" He murmured, catching his tapered waist in his hands, letting his thumbs brush against the skin beneath his t-shirt. 

**"We go upstairs and play games all night,"** Armin drew away with pink cheeks and threw the cookies in the oven. 

With their food in tow they said stole into Armin's room, setting up the console between pizza kisses and giggles. Jean had never been this way with anyone, he'd never felt so comfortable or welcomed. In fact, now that he thought about it, he'd never been approached by anyone until Connie... And no one had bothered to stick around but Armin. He smiled at him a little dreamily, propped up on his elbows. 

Armin smiled back, reaching over to ruffle his long hair, before leaping up as an idea seized him, "Hey! Where are you going?" Jean asked and Armi gestured for him to stay before vanishing out the door. "What the hell?" He blinked curiously when Armin returned, arms filled with blankets and pillows. "What's going on? Hey!" He yelped when Armin threw a blanket over him, tying it down to his bedpost. "Oh a... Are we making a pillow fort?" He seemed to realize when Armin tied down the other corner down. 

Armin nodded his affirmative with a silly smile and Jean scrambled to his feet to help. It went down a few times, burdened under the weight of other blankets as they propped it over the television, building a nest of pillows and blankets beneath as well. **"Isn't this awesome!"** Armin gestured excitedly as they stood back to admire their handiwork. 

**"You have great ideas,"** Jean replied. _I'm going to learn how to speak to you. I'm going to learn how to sign better… I need to know what you have to say that you can’t put onto paper._

They cuddled up beneath the colorful new ceiling, a sky of fleece and star wars sheets, until the console was forgotten; their characters stranded in an 3D world of FPS targets and unlimited ammunition, braced for an attack that would never come. 

Jean wasn’t sure how it’d had started but when Armin had pushed him down and climbed on top of him he was completely lost, fingers catching into the silken locks escaping from his ponytail as they kissed. They hadn’t talked much about what was happening between them, he wasn’t sure either of them had the words, but he also wasn’t sure that this was how a first date usually went. As if he were about the complain about the way Armin sucked his tongue experimentally or the way his powerful fingers rubbed lazy circles on his shoulders. 

Armin had never been given the chance to be in a relationship. Before this he’d been a nervous wreck, before this everything seemed too difficult, before this he swore it was just easier to be alone. Now he realized he’d had no idea what he’d been missing, that the heat of his waist between his thighs would go straight to his belly, that he’d feel so intoxicated by the feel of hard hands breaching the hem of his shirt and sliding up the untouched skin of his back. 

No one had told him this was what it meant want. What it meant to _need._

He drew back for a breath, a single strand of glistening saliva hung between their lips before Jean moved his head and tucked it up under Armin’s chin, licking a stripe along the curve of his throat and punctuating it with a soft suck at his pulse point. The soft sound Armin made was worth the risk of stepping over the boundary. Whatever that was. 

**“Wait,”** Armin pushed him down before signing, hands trembling. **“Wait there’s so much we need to talk about.”**

Jean looked up at him, disappointment present in his gaze, but it dissipated when Armin placed his hand on his chest, “Yeah… you’re right.” _He’s worth more than that, Jean, he’s not just something you can throw away._ He caught his hand on his thigh. 

**“Let’s just…”** Armin’s hands faltered, fighting down the heat in his navel. **“I have to be honest with you.”**

“Hey it’s really late,” Jean glanced at the clock and Armin’s tired eyes found the digital numbers. “The sun’s going to rise soon.” 

Armin swallowed. _That’s… so romantic. He really is such a dork._ He smiled and peeled himself away. **“Then we’ll talk?”**

**“Sure,”** Jean signed and helped him out of the fort. With a broom and his boots Jean braved the rooftop outside Armin’s window, despite the boy’s complaints, pushing the snow off and laying down a blanket for them to sit on atop the soaked shingles. 

He was glad for the chance to clear his head, to think about whatever it was that Armin wanted to talk about, to decide what his plan of action was. Would it be about sex? _He wouldn’t get worked up about being a virgin right?_ Then dismissed the idea at the realization that only moments before he’d been dominated by the willowy blonde without hesitation. _Could it be about… I don’t even know… Jesus what could it be?_ He brushed more snow off the rooftop tiredly. 

Maybe it would be something about Jean? _He wants to be honest with me._ He wracked his brain until his fingers were numb on the broom handle. It was freezing, desperately so, but when Armin joined him with a down comforter and hot chocolate he’d made in the microwave he felt warmer than he had inside. 

“Armin you don’t have to tell me anything unless you want to okay?” He said once he’d decided, “I know I’m not the best person. I’m not really smart or really talented at anything other than getting into trouble… but I… but you make me want to be those things okay? And you make me happy, you even make my parents happy so just… I’ll listen to you and we can talk about whatever you want but just… don’t think it’d… you know don’t be worried that anything you’d say would alienate me or anything okay?” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t any good at saying things even in his own language, how could he ever expect to talk to him in ASL? “I just mean… you don’t need to be afraid to tell me things… if that’s… I don’t know…” 

When his eyes found Armin’s face he found tears dripping down into his drink and he abandoned his in the snow, “What’s happening?” He caught his fingers in his hair, thumb brushing the curve of his neck. “Armin?” 

**“You’re someone I never expected to meet,”** Armin signed with shaking hands, letting Jean take his drink. **“It’s been almost two weeks since we met and… you’ve changed everything.”** He tried to keep his words simple, spelling when he had to, this was important. 

“Yeah,” Jean thought of his parents’ faces… of how proud they had been of him. “But that--” 

**“You deserve the truth but I can’t tell it to you now, all this time you’ve never bothered to ask so many questions that are the first ones from anyones’ mouth.”**

“What?” 

**“You’ve never asked-- what happened to my parents or-- why I don’t speak.”**

“Does… well I thought that was your business I guess?” He muttered, “Should I have asked?” 

Armin shook his head, smile breaking beneath the weight of his tears, a soft sob escaping when Jean wrapped his arms around him. _He said all those things to me… and I’ve been worried about all this._ He trembled in his grip, limbs tangling with Jean’s. _He doesn’t care what happened, he won’t try to fix me._ He let out a shaky breath. 

“It… if it’s important to you then you can go ahead and tell me, but just… only do it if you want to okay? I… I’m sure I have a lot to tell you and things you’d rather not hear but… just I don’t know just don’t worry about it okay? If you don’t want to say anything then don’t. If you do… well then do that,” he prayed at this moment that he wouldn’t sound so stupid but there it was. 

**“I’m ready to tell you,”** Armin signed. **“Everything. What happened to them and what happened to me. But it’s a long story and your ASL isn’t good.”**

“So write it down and I’ll keep learning to sign and one day we’ll meet in the middle somewhere okay?” He rubbed the base of his skull gently, smiling when his blue eyes went half hooded in relaxation. _I’ll practice every day until you don’t have to worry about me not understanding._

Armin nodded, glancing up into his eyes against the pale grey of the morning sky. _What’s your story?_ He wondered. _If I tell you mine will you tell me yours?_

“Armin,” his voice sank deep into Armin’s skin, “the sun’s rising.” 

**Dear Jean,**

He leaned against Jean’s side, nestling his head on his shoulder as the first pink streaks cut their way across the sky. 

**There’s so much I want to tell you,**

There was nothing better than being with Jean, even if it had only been a short time, even if whatever they had was nothing more than a thread hanging on the edge of a knife, threatening to break at any second. 

**But I should start with why I can’t talk to you.**

Armin would always remember that kiss, the cold one on the roof of his porch with a boy he barely knew then. A boy he’d experience so many new things with. The man he’d one day marry. 

**It all started when I was a child. On the day my parents died.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! See you next week!
> 
> Chapter title from "Rest" by Nevertheless.


	4. Remember where you've been.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean finally learns Armin's secret. The long road begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys wow I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long. It was complicated to decide just how I wanted it all to go down but this is the version I was most satisfied with. There will be a lot more detail and information in the coming chapters concerning both of them and how they're feeling but for now just have Jean being a supportive and wonderful human being.
> 
> //throws glitter
> 
> tumblr: thingsishouldntbedoing
> 
> tracking: fic: words to say

Nerves always seemed to get the better of him. He wasn’t sure why, most of the time he was confident and comfortable and _downright vivacious._ But something about finally admitting to Jean everything that had been settled deep in his chest for the duration of his life; finally telling someone other than Eren or Mikasa about what had happened… that idea was terrifying. 

“ _So you’re trying to tell him about it? Just tell him the way you told me,”_ Eren watched him tap his pen against the stationary on his lap.

 **“I can’t do that, I was a child then… this is important that I do it the right way; especially since he’s someone I care about,”** Armin replied impatiently. _I have to do this the right way._

 _“How hard can it be? Hey I don’t talk because I have a psychological disorder?_ ” Eren asked.  
  
 **Eren it’s much more complicated than that, just because you grew up understanding me doesn’t mean others will understand. Psychosomatic disorders aren’t completely understood.** Armin typed out, rather than bothering to sign.

He watched Eren’s eyes scan the paragraph for a moment, bright green in the light of his computer screen, “ _Well… you said you thought that he’d understand, right?”_ Eren asked after a moment, glancing up at the video.

 **“I… do think he will but _again_ you’re missing the point,” ** Armin’s movements became irritated and short. **"I'm just worried that I'll say it the wrong way and hurt him or make him worry."**

Eren's face softened into a smile and Armin desperately wished he was there, that he could feel the touch he knew Eren wanted to place against his cheek lovingly, _"Alright that makes sense. You're too kind for your own good."_

 **Shut up,** Armin typed and looked back down at his paper. _Is this the right way to do it?_

 

* * *

 

Jean always liked spending time at Armin’s house, but today seemed oddly solemn. The way he took his fingers in his hand and led him up the stairs without telling him anything, how their footsteps echoed on the wood floors of the bedroom; all of it seemed eerily final.

“Armin,” he caught his arm around his waist and pulled him into an embrace once the door was shut. “Aren’t you going to tell me what this is all about?” He leaned to kiss him, enjoying the glide of his Armin’s fingers into the long lop of hair on top of his head as their lips met. _If I ever give you the chance._ He hummed into his mouth, enjoying the velvet glide of their tongues and the playful way the blonde nipped at his bottom lip. 

 _I’d rather we just kissed forever,_ Armin thought as Jean’s thumb brushed the line of his waistband. _I don’t want to see the look on your face…_

 **“Wait,”** he drew away and gestured to the bed. **“Please sit down, I’ve got something for you.”**  
  
“Sounds exciting,” Armin shot him a dirty look but smiled on the tail of it as the other boy ruffled his hair and flopped down on the bed. “Whatcha got?” _I hope it’s not sex?_ Of course that was the first thing on his mind. _I’d be too nervous._

 **“It’s--”** Armin stopped, looking at the neat envelope in his fingers, smoothing it down with the soft noise of skin on paper. _It’s impersonal._ He remembered Eren’s questions, flicking the corner of the envelope before looking over at where Jean sat patiently on the bed, watching him with hawk-like eyes. _I should tell you in a better way…_ He picked up his beautiful pen, and the notebook Jean had given him. It was a spur of the moment decision that would change his life.  
  
“Armin?” He watched the blonde set the envelope aside, trailing his fingers over it once more, before walking over to sit between Jean’s feet on the bed. “What are you doing?”  
  
 **I need to tell you something.** He wrote in his neat penmanship.  
  
“Okay so… what is it?”  
  
 **I told you it was going to be hard.**  
  
“Okay I got that… Armin I told you that you… don’t have to say anything you’re not comfortable with. I don’t have to know,” he was almost scared, worried about what it was that could make Armin’s brows knit like that and his lips tighten into a tense line.  
  
 **I want to tell you because I want you to know before**

**I need you to know. Because I trust you.**

Jean felt his heart tighten, leaning towards him. “I trust you, too, okay?” He reached out to touch his face, breath catching in his throat when Armin nuzzled his palm and placed a soft kiss against the inside of his wrist.  
  
 **When I was 5 my parents were killed.**

Jean swallowed, nodding his understanding. It wasn’t shocking, he’d figured Armin’s parents had passed away even if no one had told him. Why else would he live with his grandfather?

“Killed?” He managed a whisper as the choice of words dawned on him. “Armin…”  
  
His slender fingers trembled on his pen, nerves churning his stomach. He couldn’t believe he was about to lay it bare for him, to set down his entire heart for this boy he cared for so desperately.  
  
 **You promise you won’t panic?**  
  
“I promise,” Jean whispered. “Armin what’s going on? Did someone hurt you?” Armin could see the protective flash of fear and anger in his eyes and it warmed him, steadied his nerves even when he had to adjust the pen in his hand. When had his palms begun to sweat?  
  
 **I saw.**  

Armin could see the way he relaxed, surprised, but the severity of the statement hadn’t yet hit him. He seemed to be processing, tongue working at the back of his teeth as he breathed in through his nose. The silence hummed in his ears, too quiet and oppressive as he wrote out his next confession.

 **It’s why I can’t talk to you, they think. Because my mother tried to keep me quiet. She didn’t want anything to happen to me.**  
  
“What?” There was no incredulity in his voice, only concern and curiosity.  
  
 **I wanted to tell you. I want you to know. I’m okay. I’m okay.** He began to panic, heart racing. He hadn’t expected Jean to say anything but he was suddenly regretting everything. Suddenly he wished he wouldn’t have written it down in big black marks on his life. Wishing he could wipe away the stain of ink on pearlescent paper. He wished everything didn’t have to be in pen and every sentence of his world didn’t have to end with a question mark.  
  
“Armin.”  
  
 **Please don’t be angry or upset I’m okay.** He nearly couldn’t catch his grip on the pen, lips trembling.

“Armin.”

 **I can’t lose you.** **Please don’t be scared of me. I’m not hurt or damaged I’m okay. I had all the therapy and stuff**

“Armin,” a shaking hand caught in his hair gently. “Armin it’s okay,” and when he kissed his cheek Armin realized that tears of terror had leaked out of the corner of his eyes and Jean was kissing each one that clung in ribbons to his damp cheeks. “What are you crying for? I'm here.”  _I don't think those things about you._ He didn't have much time to process. All he could think about was calming him, reassuring him.  
  
Armin couldn’t answer. Of course he couldn’t answer. He felt so incredibly helpless at that moment; weak and fragile and breakable in the hands of someone who could crush his very existence in a matter of words. He was open, laid out beneath a spotlight for all to see, and it terrified him. Not because of what he’d said. Because of the consequences. Because it meant that suddenly and quite terrifyingly everything had ended with a period and there was nothing he could do but wait for the black dot to find its way into the end of his sentence and suddenly his world would be dark and without Jean’s face and Jean’s smile and Jean’s warmth. 

Jean wasn’t sure how to handle him, what to do about the boy trembling in his grip, but he knew he’d have to learn. Even if he couldn’t wrap his mind around what Armin had been through, even if he didn’t understand and didn’t know what all it entailed… he’d never met someone like him. He was all life and light and beauty and he made Jean want to be more than just a fuck up that spent all his time burdening his parents. _How can I help you?_ He squeezed his arms tighter around him, wishing he could press the shaking body into his until it stopped, until he wasn’t afraid anymore.

Until there wasn’t any reason for him to be scared.

 _Jean_. Armin buried his face against his chest, clutching the fabric of his henley desperately until he was being pulled forward, tugged into Jean’s lap to curl up in his warm embrace. Pulled into the firm affection that Jean offered; safety and security in a place he never thought he’d find it. _You…_ He lifted his head to search steady gold eyes, knowing he had no idea what to do or how to help, finding that there was no panic there. He may not have known how to help or how to ask what he should do… but just being there, not leaving, holding him was more than anyone else had done. Just his quiet breaths and steady heartbeat were enough to calm Armin, to make him relax against him and close his eyes. 

_I made the right choice._

Armin wasn’t sure how long they sat there, nestled together and silently conversing with touches and chaste kisses and Jean’s murmured reassurances, but he wished it would never end. He wanted to feel the rough palms of Jean’s hands wrapped around his forever; the chapped feeling of his lips against his jaw and the soft rush of his words over his neck… all of it he wanted to mark it down. 

 _This_ was what belonged written in his story. Long, languid sentences filled with commas and kisses and semicolons that drew their sentences together even if they were structurally different. Even if they could exist without each other... it wouldn’t seem right. The diction wouldn’t fit if Jean wasn’t there, words and punctuation and grammar all meant nothing without the right words to write and Jean was the word he wanted to grind into the paper until it pressed through to every page and inked its way into the very existence of his life. Until _Jean_ was the period that ended everything. Because he deserved the place of honor as the last place in Armin’s story.

He deserved the honor of being artfully woven between words and never left in an unstructured fragment with words like _beautiful_ and _vivacious._ No those words didn’t meet Jean’s needs. He needed powerful words that left you breathless and stupefied if not always in the right ways. He was rough and soft and kind and rude, words Armin couldn’t fathom synonyms for because they were the ones that fit. Short and blunt, obvious and easy to understand. Words that met the most basic definition because basic definitions were all that described Jean. He was the most complicated sentence Armin had ever encountered: full of commas and ellipses and never ending curiosities and small words with big meanings. That was when Armin decided to dedicate himself to learning every last mark; to reading every last line of his story and devouring it and making it his own with exclamation points and question marks and rough kisses that left them breathless on his bed.

Rough kisses that drove everything from his mind as he pushed Jean down on his bed, straddling his waist, kisses that made him try to forget everything. To forget everything at this moment that wasn’t _Jean._ He nipped his lip and sucked at his tongue, hands trailing up beneath his shirt. He wasn’t even worried how the soft kisses to his face had become this, how all his thoughts had rushed into his mouth and out through each mingled breath between their mouths. He wanted to burn it all into Jean’s skin, into his own skin: all the things that they meant to each other, all the words they’d written and signed and spoken, all the thoughts in his head that he’d never be able to tell him.

It was the first time in his life that all he desperately wanted to do was _speak._ To be able to say all the things on his mind and leave them hanging in the air like the echo of a bullhorn at a Friday night football game. To taste each word as it rolled off his lips and feel the weight of them rolling on his tongue as heavy as the meanings they bore. Instead he was resigned to kissing his feelings into him: trailing hot, open mouthed sucks over his neck, hands finding the curve of his shoulder and the sharp angle of his collarbone.

Jean really was all contradictions and incongruencies. Hard angles, soft slopes, a frowning mouth and smiling eyes, a gentle monster with hard hands and a kind touch. How had he been so lucky? So lucky to have manufactured this fate of Jean’s soft pants in his ear and damp skin beneath his mouth with a simple note. A note he almost hadn’t written.

He supposed that was the point, wasn’t it? Sometimes the words we don’t speak are the ones that matter most. The words we put in ink on our lives and carve into our very flesh until they’re the only ones we know are important but the words we don’t say; the words we leave behind or regret are sometimes the ones that leave us with a question mark. What if?

He was lucky he wouldn’t have to answer that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Stay Awake (Dreams Only Last for a Night) Acoustic" by All Time Low


	5. Wants and needs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin makes a big decision. Jean fumbles the pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry this chapter took yet another year to get out but the next one is already done and I'll put it out on a week or so. This should be on a more regular schedule from now on :) as always I am thingsishouldntbedoing on tumblr and I'm tracking fic: words to say

Armin’s happiness continued for months, spending almost every afternoon with Jean. He couldn’t believe he had the ability to be this blissful. He spend days with Sasha and Connie and Jean over winter break. They slept over at his house and helped his grandfather and he wasn’t sure he could have imagined a more perfect end to his year. With an exclamation point.

Yet something was bothering him, nagging at his mind every day since his admission to Jean, something that brought him here; the waiting room of his therapist’s office.  
  
“Armin?” He looked up from his phone, rising anxiously. “Come on in, sweetie,” she smiled softly and he walked over with a nod. Her office was warm but not overly so, filled with toys off to one side for children, and beautiful antique leather chairs that smelled like tobacco and squeaked when he sat. He’d always liked her office, coming here as a child had been a harrowing experience-- court ordered-- but he’d come to enjoy the depth of her voice and the warmth of her kindness and understanding.   
  
He fiddled with his notebook, a different one than Jean had given him. No; that book was meant for secrets between them. It was the collection of whispers, of stories he had to tell, of words he wanted to speak. It was the record that he’d even had words to say. 

**“I would like to learn to speak,”** he signed once she’d sat down, not giving her a chance to ask.  
  
“Really?” Her hazel eyes sparkled but he didn’t see any surprise there. “Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?”

He liked that she didn’t take notes. He wasn’t sure why but the frantic scribbling of pen on paper in other offices had made him anxious. He could hear it scritching against the weave, almost feel the ball point catching on each microscopic fold. He hadn’t realized he’d lost himself until she cleared her throat.  
  
“Sorry I have had a bit of a cold,” she sniffled into a kerchief before tucking it into her pocket. “Are you okay? You haven’t seemed this faraway in a long time?”  
  
 **“It has been a long time since I came to see you,** ” Armin answered.  
  
“Yes! Well I suppose that’s true! You made marvellous progress… and this is why I said you were always welcome back! How is your grandfather feeling about this?”  
  
 **“I haven’t told him yet,”** Armin’s movements were sheepish.  
  
“Really?” That seemed to interest her and she leaned forward. “What’s happening, Armin?”  
  
 **“I think I’m in love,”** he flushed but his signs were bold. He wasn’t sure why he’d signed it that way, as if his hands had a mind of their own. His intent had been ‘I like someone’ or something along those lines-- ‘I would like to speak to someone’ would have been better but instead he’d spilled his truth to her within ten minutes of being in her office.

She leaned back in her chair and he felt his heart stutter, fear spilling into his veins. What if she said something negative? It had been years since he’d seen her and here he was rushing this information onto her. Panic began to set in but then she sniffed again, covering her mouth with her hand.  
  
 **“Doctor Zoe?”**  
  
“Oh honey,” he saw the corners of her eyes turn up and the fear tightened on his intestines. “That’s wonderful.” His body relaxed. “This is wonderful, oh you beautiful boy,” she reached across the desk and offered her hands to him, squeezing his fingers when he relented. “Who are they? Someone very special to have earned your heart… of course I’ll help you. As if there was ever a question!”  
  
Armin’s eyes burned, relief flooding into him, and he tried to fight back the trembling of his lips. Then her hands had left him and he felt cold, afraid… _alone…_ but only for a moment before she had knelt before him and pulled him into her warm arms. He’d always liked the way she smelled; like sugared fruits and men’s cologne and stale tobacco. They were things that reminded him of his childhood in her office, learning to cope and understand the things he felt and why. She had always been so patient with him and he had always admired her. She reminded him of his mother in the best of ways, firm and soft and warm. She was a mess of contradictions. Just like any other human. And she held him as tears dripped down his face, letting him sniff against her shoulder.  
  
“It’s alright, let it out. I’m sure you’re relieved. You were so worried all along weren’t you?” He nodded. “Have you told them?”  
  
He drew back and wiped his tears away, looking at her through watery blue eyes, and for a long moment he sat there; letting his breathing even out and sighing lightly against the knot in his throat. Her kind eyes behind her glasses were just as watery as his as she reached up to dab at them with her handkerchief… that pleased him almost-- that she was as happy as he was.  
  
 **“I told him two months ago,”** Armin gestured.   
  
“And how did he handle it?”  
  
 **“He… I don’t think he understands. But he’s aware he doesn’t understand so he tries hard. He’s overly careful sometimes but it’s cute.”** He smiled at the memory, eyes lifting as the doctor rose and sat in the chair beside him.

“What does he do?”

**“Just little things. Now that he knows he’s very aware and when I correct him he seems to take it into consideration. We were going to play video games the other day and he asked about the blood bothering me.”**  
  
“And he understood?” 

**“I can differentiate fantasy from reality,”** Armin smiled peacefully. **“I think that’s where he struggles the most.”**  
  
“He seems to really care about you,” she smiled when he grinned like a mad man. “I’m really happy for you but…”  
  
The hesitance in her voice made him wary, the balloon of joy that had filled his chest shrinking slightly. He eyed her, swallowing hard.

“You’re doing this because _you_ want to right?” She asked.  
  
He nodded.

“You want to talk to him?” 

**“I want to talk to everybody,”** Armin gestured.

“Good,” she smiled warmly. “Now let’s talk about therapy, I can send some workbooks home with you to play with in your room. You’ll need to take time in the quiet to listen to yourself. You’ll start by whispering and--”  
  
Armin watched her flitter around her office, picking up books from the shelf and shuttling them to her desk, talking all the while. It was nice to be fussed over. Nice to know that she was more than willing to help.

Nice to know that soon he would be able to speak. 

* * *

Jean hurried down the stairs and slowed to let his mother inspect him, “How do I look?”

“Handsome, I wish you’d grow your hair out, though…” she clucked and Jean grinned, pushing the thatch of hair on his head forward further.   
  
“Don’t lie it looks great,” Jean glanced into the kitchen. “I’m goin’ Dad I’ll be back!” He started towards the door and caught the handle but paused briefly. _I should say something._  
  
“Jean?” His mother blinked, watching him stall at the threshold.   
  
“He doesn’t… ugh shit this is the wrong time but…” Jean hadn’t ever considered it before, that his parents didn’t know Armin didn’t speak. “Armin…”  
  
“He sounds wonderful, Jean, don’t worry,” his mother caught his face in her hands.  
  
“No I… I forgot to mention something…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he turned, pulling at the gage in his lobe. “I… Armin’s… really quiet.”  
  
“Oh? Well that’s alright,” his father smiled.   
  
“No I mean… ah… he doesn’t talk… like at all…” he murmured.  
  
“What do you mean?” He watched concern flicker across his mother’s face.  
  
“I mean he… he doesn’t talk. He can’t talk… this isn’t the time to say this… it’s… you know he met me in ASL and… uhm…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a long story but he… he’s not deaf like… he can hear but he can’t speak…”

“Oh so…”  
  
“You can just talk it’s okay he’s just… Jesus I’m sorry to spring this on you… he’s it’s a really long story, yeah, and I can’t really say anything but well uhm… you’ll see it’s… it’s fine… I don’t know why I said anything…”

But he knew why, climbing into his car and leaving his parents in a sort of stunned silence. Because he wanted Armin to be as comfortable as possible and now he might have made it exactly the opposite.

_I should have just let them find out._  

* * *

 

“Hhhh…” He breathed a sound out, letting the air roll over his tongue as he watched himself in the mirror. It was a start, the beginning of a word. He’d been practicing for almost two weeks now, going in to Dr. Zoe’s office and practicing sounds with her. She said the more he practiced, the more comfortable with noises he became, the more likely it was that he would be able to speak.

_It stems from not wanting to make a sound. It comes from fear. And if you can overcome the fear of making sound you can speak._   
  
He repeated her words over and over in his mind, feeling his heart pound at the thought of anything more escaping his lips.

“Haaahhh…” he forced air out a little louder, gripping the edge of the sink with trembling hands. _It shouldn’t be this hard._ He grit his teeth against the way his stomach churned, fear making vertigo spin his world.  
  
 _If I say quiet I’ll never be able to live._ He closed his eyes. _I’ll always be hindered and I can’t let that man win. I can’t lose myself as well._ He jumped up when his grandfather opened the door.  
  
“Armin he’s here, and he looks lovely,” his grandfather smiled warmly. “Are you nervous?” Concern spilled onto his face and Armin wrapped him up in a hug.  
  
 **“A little. I’ve never met his parents before,”** Armin signed once he drew away.  
  
 **“You’ll be fine,”** his grandfather signed and Armin relaxed a little, following him down the stairs.

Armin always enjoyed the moment right before the door opened, the anticipation of the future, the briefest of excitement before the butterflies burst into his stomach and Jean appeared before his eyes.  
  
“Hey,” a smile spread over his face and Armin almost swooned. It was a smile just for him that hung between them and made his heart quake as he walked forward and accepted a soft kiss of greeting. “Are you ready to go?”  
  
Armin nodded, sliding his hand into Jean’s and lacing their fingers together gently.   
  
“Bring him back in one piece,” Herman winked and Armin flushed lightly.  
  
 **“Bye,”** Armin signed and let his boyfriend lead him off towards his car.   
  
“I’m sorry if they’re weird,” Jean murmured. “You look really great tonight… you always look great.”  
  
Armin flushed but caught his fingers into the long strands hanging over Jean’s face and pulled him into a kiss over the center console, catching his free hand in the curve of his neck.   
  
_It’ll be okay._ Jean thought. Even if he and his parents were awkward, even if they didn’t fully understand, Armin knew more than the rest of them. He knew what to do. He always seemed to. _I hope I didn’t just screw everything up._

But when they drew away and Jean searched the cerulean eyes of the boy he was slowly falling for, his stomach turned over itself and left him giddy, and he felt like everything really would be okay. Whatever came next he could face it with Armin and his bright blue eyes.

**“Are we going to go?”** Jean’s heart skipped a beat and he laughed nervously. **“You’re cute,”** Armin chuckled.  
  
 _He’s going to be the end of me. And that’s okay._ Jean thought as he started the car and drove away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Story title from "If These Sheets Were States" by All Time Low.


End file.
